The Importance of Being Kenji
by Calliope6
Summary: BakuryuKenji, finds himself intensely absorbed with his inability to defeat Yugo in battle and blames it on the weakness of his two conflicting personalities: one as an uncompassionate warrior, and one as a loving brother. (really mild Kenji x Yugo shoune


The Importance of being Kenji  
  
-a Bloody Roar fan fiction by Calliope-  
  
Message:   
  
It was the strangest thing, I woke up one morning and I had Bloody Roar stuck in my head. I love  
  
that game, and now it seems like I'm even playing it in my sleep. So, to try to curve this obsession  
  
I seem to have with it I decided to write a little fan fiction about it.   
  
Summery:  
  
Bakuryu/Kenji, finds himself intensely absorbed with his inability to defeat Yugo in battle and  
  
blames it on the weakness of his two conflicting personalities: one as an uncompassionate warrior,  
  
and one as a loving brother.  
  
Warning: really mild Kenji x Yugo shounen-ai  
  
******  
  
The only place one can ever truly at peace, is at war. There is no satisfaction like victory,  
  
and no pain like defeat. The aggravation one feels when they find themself unable to attain that  
  
sense of satisfaction can be unbearable. But it is even worse when the source of this relentless  
  
aggravation, is someone you truly love.  
  
I am only fifteen. I am not even an adult. But yet, I am so much more mature then some. I  
  
have seen plenty of people my own age and yet, I do not feel like them. I desire to be strong, to  
  
fight, and to better myself for the sake of my causes. But I have two lives to lead. Two very  
  
different lives. There is a me who I am when I am at war, weather with myself or with another.  
  
And then there is my other self, the me, who never wished to fight in the first place.  
  
Bakuryu, the ninja. My fighting self, a skilled warrior and potentially merciless killer.  
  
When I am him, I am afraid of nothing and of no one, whether the challenge is within my grasp or  
  
not; I will fight anyway. Bakuryu, has will and desire, for nothing more then the satisfaction of  
  
victory, as it is, in itself, a reason to live. He is strong, and his spirit is intense; he is the self which  
  
so often prevails.  
  
  
  
Yet, there is still my other self. Kenji, the boy. My self which is still a child. Neither strong  
  
nor confident, when I am him, I am like any other. Five foot nine and just barely a hundred  
  
pounds, Kenji is hardly a threat to anyone. When you are so often visited by that pain, the one that  
  
comes with your defeat, you cannot help but become numb to it. He is compassionate, but he is so  
  
easily hurt; and not only through means of the flesh. He is the me I so often repress.  
  
******  
  
I train my body every day so that whenever the need arises I am ready to meet my  
  
challenger head on. Yet still, somehow, I find myself unable to train my mind. Especially when the  
  
challenge I have to meet, is before someone I truly love.   
  
"You don't fight me like you mean it." is what he tells me. This is always what he tells me.  
  
"Yes I do! What more do you want from me!?"  
  
"Come at me like you mean to kill me." This is always his advice.  
  
"But," I always hesitate here. Both my selves are at an impasse, the desire to kill; verses  
  
the desire to love. I look at him, standing there, his fists up, ready to strike me should I try  
  
anything. He has serious eyes, but I know they're lying. He is never serious to me. Never truly;  
  
because in his eyes I am Kenji, compassionate and frail, the same little boy who he found all alone  
  
that day.  
  
As Kenji I want nothing more then for him to take me in his arms. To have him protect me  
  
and look out for me. I want him to love me and look after me, and save me from all of this. To  
  
save me from this fate which I am forcing upon myself.  
  
But I am not him. I am not Kenji.  
  
I don't want to be him.   
  
He is weak, and I am strong.   
  
I am Bakuryu.  
  
And yet this is always how it goes.  
  
"You fought me well today Kenji." he tells me with a smile as he helps me off the ground.  
  
"My name is Bakuryu." I mutter under my breath.  
  
"What?" he'll ask.  
  
"Nothing." I'll tell him, "It's nothing Yugo."  
  
And yet, it's so much more then nothing.   
  
******  
  
Kenji. That is the name he gave me, and Yugo, he is the young man who found me. The  
  
one who took me in and gave me a name and made me his family. Made me his brother. But he  
  
cannot protect me all the time, he cannot always be there. But Bakuryu does not need protecting.  
  
I will fight him and I will win one day, but only after I rid myself or Kenji.  
  
******  
  
He came home from a fight one night, bloodied and bruised but the victor none the less. I  
  
had run up to him to inspect his wounds, to tend to him and give him my sympathies like I always  
  
did; but this time I stopped myself. I would not be his enamored little brother anymore, it was  
  
something I had to stop doing if I was ever going to become stronger then him.  
  
He'd seemed upset then, when I acted as though I did not care. I always cared. But not  
  
now, not anymore, Bakuryu had no time for other people's trivial matters.   
  
But once he was alone in his room, Kenji cried himself to sleep.  
  
******  
  
It is early and I am training. My body is my weapon, and like a sword it must be kept  
  
sharp. I only practice in full armor, my legs and left arm cased in steel, because that is how it  
  
would really be. Yugo will come and offer to fight me. Just like he does every day.  
  
"You still don't fight me like you mean it."  
  
And thus it will begin again.  
  
But soon it will be different. Soon I will kill Kenji, once and for all, and he will die in the  
  
light of my glorious victory.  
  
"You fought me well again today Kenji." he says to me as usual.  
  
"My name is Bakuryu." I mutter again.  
  
"What?"  
  
"My name is BAKURYU!" I shout at him.  
  
He just stares at me wide eyed, unsure of how to react.   
  
Fists clenched tight and a scowl on my face he can tell I mean what I am saying.   
  
But Bakuryu is not the name he gave me. I know it hurts him for me to throw it aside. But  
  
to defeat him I must first be free of him.   
  
"Since when did you decide that?" he asks me, folding his arms across his broad chest, as  
  
if to intimidate me into taking back my words.  
  
"Since now! Kenji is just your pet! Just your weak little brother! Well I'm not! I'm  
  
Bakuryu, skilled ninja and Xanthrope, and that is the name under which I will FINALLY beat  
  
you!"  
  
He doesn't say a thing to me. He only walks away.   
  
I want so badly to prove to myself that I am strong. That I can beat even my own  
  
protector. Yugo is nothing to me but an obstacle, a ruler on which I will measure my skills as a  
  
ninja.  
  
So why is it now that I feel as though I am dying?  
  
******  
  
He will not speak to me. I will not dote on him anymore. He will not hug me. I will not  
  
stand by his side anymore.  
  
I want to beat him, and prove to myself that I am truly strong.  
  
But now I am truly alone.   
  
I am Bakuryu, the mole, digging myself farther and farther into a hole so deep that I may  
  
never be able to climb back out.  
  
******  
  
In my dreams I can remember being happy.  
  
Happy just being Kenji, because then, just being with Yugo was enough.   
  
Even when I'm sleeping I can smell his familiar scent and feel his soft hair under my  
  
fingers.  
  
But he's not really there.  
  
And when I wake up, I find myself wishing he was.  
  
And for that I hate myself.  
  
******  
  
He would not fight me, but I made him. I attacked him and made him have to protect  
  
himself. I fought with force. I "fought him like I meant it". And I did.   
  
Every time I hit him I felt satisfied. Every time he bled I felt satisfied. But yet he would  
  
not fight back. Still I did not stop. I did not stop for anything. My body moved all on its own.  
  
Bakuryu had led me to this fight and he was going to finish it.   
  
I would not let up for anything, and even when I felt that familiar power welling up inside  
  
myself I did nothing to suppress it. Claws freed and fangs bared I attacked him as if I meant to kill  
  
him. But I did. Even if he was my brother, and even if he loved me.  
  
But yet he would not meet his claws with mine.  
  
"Fight me like you mean it!" I yelled at him.  
  
"I won't." he said to me, his blood running down his face.  
  
"Why not!"  
  
"Because." he told me.  
  
"That's not an answer!" I yelled at him, hitting him again. Only this time, he didn't get up.  
  
******  
  
I had beaten him.   
  
I had beaten Yugo.  
  
So why wasn't I satisfied?  
  
******  
  
I returned then, my claws to nails and my fur to flesh, and I stood over top of his body.  
  
My hands were red with blood, but it was not just his and it was not just my own. For so long I  
  
had wanted this, to fight him and to beat him, to stand over him like I was standing now, and to  
  
know that I was truly strong.   
  
And yet the weakness in my knees betrayed me. But it was not a weakness of my muscles  
  
or a weakness of my bones; it was a weakness of my heart.   
  
"Yugo?"  
  
What had I done?  
  
Kneeling beside him I wanted to touch him and reaching out my hands I tried to, but as  
  
soon as I saw the blood I could not help but stop myself.   
  
"Yugo?"  
  
He had taken me in.  
  
He had loved me like his brother, and also yet, like more.  
  
He had protected me.  
  
He had watched over me.  
  
He had taught me to become stronger.  
  
And this is what I had done with it.  
  
As I sat there over his lifeless body, I found that it wasn't Kenji who was dying inside of  
  
me now, in the light of my glorious victory.  
  
"Yugo?" I said again.  
  
Only this time I cried.   
  
I grabbed his shirt in my hands and pressed my face to his chest, sobbing like the child I  
  
knew I was.   
  
This was not power.   
  
This was not glory.   
  
This was not strength.  
  
This was the destruction of the only thing that I had ever loved.  
  
But there was nothing that I, Kenji, could do about it.  
  
I wanted to be his pet.  
  
I wanted to be his little brother.  
  
I wanted nothing more then for him to hold me in his arms and protect me.  
  
Protect me from myself.  
  
And so I did the only thing I could do.  
  
I cried.  
  
"Bakuryu."  
  
I heard a voice, but I did not believe it.  
  
"Bakuryu?"  
  
That was his voice, but I still did not believe it.  
  
Face still buried in his chest I felt an arm around by shoulder and another one around my  
  
waist, holding me tightly against him.  
  
"Bakuryu?" He whispered to me again.  
  
"Kenji! Kenji! Never call me anything but Kenji!" I sobbed.   
  
He was alive.   
  
I was alive then too.  
  
Getting to his feet he took me in his arms and he held me firmly.  
  
Grabbing at his back I pressed myself as tightly against him as I could.  
  
He was my protector.   
  
"Kenji?" he whispered to me.  
  
"Yeah?" I struggled to say through my relentless tears.  
  
"I love you." he told me.  
  
"I love you too!" I exclaimed.  
  
And it was then that I felt strong.   
  
Like I could meet any challenge head on.  
  
Because I was not alone.  
  
Looking up at him finally, I knew he wasn't just my brother.  
  
Looking down at me he wiped the blood and tears from my face.  
  
And he kissed me then, and I felt complete.   
  
Because,  
  
there really was some importance to being Kenji.  
  
******  
  
The End 


End file.
